Taming The Beast
by Beregond5
Summary: G1. Post-1986 movie. In a time of mourning, Sunstreaker realises he can no longer disregard some certain feelings. Slash. UST.


_A/N: Though I don't usually write slash, I do like to try my hand on it whenever I feel I can tell a good story through it. This is one such instance. I apologise to the readers who don't really like this kind of genre, but it provided me with a good challenge. _

_Also, to avoid confusion: Head On is an OC of mine, and I always depict him as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's creator._

_**Warning: Several implied - canon - character deaths.**_

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Sunstreaker took another sip of his high-grade, letting the burning sensation travel down his vocaliser and insides. He was sitting with both his legs crossed on the table and his chair balancing precariously on two legs alone. He knew that neither Ultra Magnus nor Red Alert would be passing by the particular area of the Autobot City any time soon. The hour was late and the only light filling the room was the moonbeams shining through a large window to his left.

Besides, even if anyone did come by and reprimand him for the inappropriateness of his position, he would just tell them to frag off. Right now, he was past caring about any consequences. He had a particularly bad day and all he wanted was to drown himself in misery and high-grade. It was the only way he could forget that today he had to say goodbye to eight comrades who had been a part of his life for more than four million years.

Optimus Prime, Ironhide, Prowl, Ratchet, Wheeljack, Brawn, Huffer, Windcharger… All of them were gone, just like that. It sounded impossible, and a part of Sunstreaker expected to see any one of them stepping into the room with a big grin on their faces as though nothing happened.

_I'm an idiot,_ Sunstreaker thought bitterly. Of course they weren't coming back. They were _dead _for pity's sake. If there was something Sunstreaker knew well was the absoluteness of death. Didn't he mourn at Head On's passing? Didn't he bring death to the Decepticons?

Then why was it so blasted hard to accept things?

Even worse, it wasn't only Sunstreaker that had to deal with that situation. The rest of the Ark Autobots had trouble accepting things too, and they tried to deal with it in any way they could. Jazz and Blaster focused on their music, while the Aerialbots roamed through space, hunting down the last remnants of the Decepticons. Skyfire, Hound, Beachcomber and Trailbreaker preferred the comfort of Earthen nature. Others, including Sideswipe, threw themselves at work. Even now, his twin was in their dorms, busy with filling in some reports that were overdue.

And, lastly, one Autobot was currently in the same room with Sunstreaker. But Bluestreak didn't seem to acknowledge the warrior. He simply stood by the window, gazing at the night sky as the moonlight showered him dotingly. Sunstreaker could see him quite well from the corner of his optic, despite the fact that the warrior was giving the impression he was focused on his high-grade. He preferred to relish the rare, _beautiful _sight that was unfolded before him in secret.

Yes, Sunstreaker considered Bluestreak beautiful. He had considered him beautiful for a long time, in fact. It was true that Bluestreak didn't have the exquisite features or the coveted sensuality Sunstreaker usually looked for in his lovers. Still, the silver mech's innocence which at times reached to the point of naivety, his gentle nature, his kindness, even his exuberance, attracted Sunstreaker the same way flames attracted a moth.

Those qualities were gone though. They died the day Prowl died too. And now, all Sunstreaker could see as he kept watching Bluestreak was melancholy that changed the gunner's sweetness into something else entirely. Something that made Sunstreaker's spark pulsate in an unnatural way.

"It has probably passed the moon by now," he declared, finally lifting his gaze in Bluestreak's direction.

"Yes," Bluestreak said softly, never taking his optics off the window. He leaned against the window frame, his head tilting just enough to reveal the delicate fuel lines that formed his neck.

Sunstreaker fidgeted in his chair and his thumbs traced the rim of the cube. "It was for the best, Bluestreak. We had to give them a hero's funeral. It was the least we could do."

"That was the problem," Bluestreak answered. "They weren't heroes."

Sunstreaker planted his feet on the floor and sat up, taken aback at those words. "What are you talking about? Of course they were--"

"They were our friends, Sunstreaker," Bluestreak continued, interrupting the yellow mech. "We laughed with them, we cried with them, we fought at their side… only for them to go where we can't follow."

Although the last words were spoken in a murmur, Sunstreaker managed to detect Bluestreak's sorrow and regret.

"You miss him, don't you?" Sunstreaker said quietly.

It was a foolish question, of course. Sunstreaker knew that Prowl meant everything to Bluestreak. Whenever the tactician happened to walk into the same room the gunner was, Bluestreak's face lit up like a thousand fireworks. Sunstreaker's grip on his cube tightened as he felt a pang of jealousy at that thought.

"He was my second family," Bluestreak answered. "It's because of him that I'm here today rather than dead in a ditch on Cybertron."

Yes, Sunstreaker remembered the day Bluestreak came to Iacon. Truth be told, the warrior didn't think much of Bluestreak back then. The silver mech seemed like a dumb, fearful kid that clung to Prowl like a mecha-leech, talking the audios off of any unfortunate Autobot close by. But then, through Prowl's patient guidance, Bluestreak's true personality came out on the surface. So, everyone came to like the charming, helpful Autobot who didn't hesitate to go out of his way for his friends' sake and fight bravely the ones responsible for the destruction of his city.

It wasn't long after that that Bluestreak stirred other kind of feelings in Sunstreaker's spark. Sunstreaker disregarded them at first as a fancy of the moment but, as time passed, those feelings became more powerful instead of dwindling into nothingness; until they became so powerful that Sunstreaker ended up longing for a mere look or a single word of Bluestreak's that would be meant only for _him_.

Sunstreaker downed the rest of his cube in a gulp. The liquid burned his vocaliser unpleasantly this time, but he didn't think twice about it. He locked his gaze on Bluestreak, his optics resting momentarily on the silver door panels that graced the strong back.

"You know…" he said, placing the empty cube on the table, "You've never said anything about your life before you joined the Autobots."

"No, I haven't," Bluestreak admitted, finally turning around to look at Sunstreaker. "Does it matter?"

"I'd still like to hear it if it's all right with you," Sunstreaker said.

"It's okay, I suppose," Bluestreak answered. He hugged himself as he became lost in thought, his white hands gripping his sides almost like they were a lover's hands. Tension coursed through Sunstreaker's relays as he watched that motion and he caught himself leaning forward to listen to the story the better.

"I didn't have any siblings or even two parents. For as long as I can remember, it was just me and my mother," the gunner said. "She operated a forge in one of the busiest streets in my city and she was actually good at her job. After she created me, she raised me with love and made sure I had everything I needed. When I became old enough, I started helping around the forge, learning the art so that one day I could operate the place on my own."

"Let me guess. The Decepticons came first," Sunstreaker said with a huff.

Bluestreak nodded. "I was sleeping when it happened. The sound of sirens suddenly filled the air and then the whole place started shaking. I was so scared that I jumped out of my berth and rushed to my mother like I was a sparkling again. Just when I found her and we were about to head out, the whole building collapsed on us. We would have both gotten buried but… she pushed me out of harm's way at the last moment."

Bluestreak shook his head and slowly started pacing up and down the room, still hugging himself. "It's strange. I can hear her say my name, see her smile, feel her warmth of her embrace… but I can't quite remember her face. The only time I can see it is just moments before she died, covered in her own fluid. Memories can be a cruel thing, I guess."

Sunstreaker nodded his agreement, for that was exactly how he felt after his own creator passed away. The difference was that Sunstreaker had somehow always expected Head On's death – the old mech's defective laser core could only last for that long. But Bluestreak's creator was snatched away mercilessly and unexpectedly, along with the rest of Bluestreak's city.

"So what did you do?" Sunstreaker asked before he could help it.

"What else was I supposed to do?" Bluestreak replied with a shrug. "Unable to transform, I ran as fast as I could until I found myself in a medical centre that belonged to the Protectobots." The gunner stopped pacing and rested his back against the table, his head bowed.

Sunstreaker instinctively got on his feet and stood next to Bluestreak. "And then?"

"Then it's pretty obvious," Bluestreak answered. "They tended my wounds and nursed me back to health." He placed his hands on the table and heaved a sigh. "Afterwards I could have left, but I didn't want to. I was too scared of the Decepticons and the medical centre felt safe enough."

"Until Prowl came along," Sunstreaker said.

"Yes," Bluestreak lifted his gaze and looked at Sunstreaker. "He helped me find the courage I never thought I had in order to move on."

"So you could join the Autobots."

"And maybe accept everything that I'd come across on the path I chose, good and ugly things alike."

Bluestreak shifted, his shoulder accidentally brushing Sunstreaker's. The warrior almost flinched like he got electrocuted, and his hands left dents on the table as they clenched powerfully into fists. Bluestreak didn't seem to notice any of those things though. He simply headed for the exit.

Sunstreaker was still watching the silver form retreat when, all of a sudden, frightening thoughts piled in his mind.

What if Bluestreak hadn't survived the attack on his city? What if Prowl had never found him? What if a Decepticon had killed Bluestreak during the battle of the Autobot City? Worse, what if Bluestreak didn't survive the Decepticons' next attack? How long would the gunner's skill and luck keep him safe?

What if Sunstreaker lost Bluestreak before getting a taste of his lips? Before getting a chance to love him?

Sunstreaker trembled, his breathing became erratic, his head throbbed painfully for more reasons than just the high-grade. His optics locked on the gunner again as he was about to cross the doorway.

Why couldn't he claim Bluestreak? Now, while there was still time?

His spark couldn't take it anymore.

"Wait!"

He didn't quite register what happened next. In seconds, he lunged at Bluestreak and grabbed him by the wrists, forcing him against the wall. A growl flowed out of his vocaliser and he parted his hungry lips, ready to capture the silver mouth.

Bluestreak didn't fight him back. But, when Sunstreaker looked at Bluestreak's optics, the warrior was shocked to see the hurt reflected in there. He froze at once, so close to Bluestreak's face that he could _almost_ feel the soft plating.

For the first time in his life, Sunstreaker, the mech that could tear a Decepticon from limb to limb without the least bit of remorse, was filled with shame. He drew back at once and turned around, unable to look at Bluestreak anymore.

"You had better go," he whispered.

It was over. He didn't only ruin a chance to be with Bluestreak, he also ruined a strong bond of friendship and trust that took years in the making. If they ever tried to interact again, there would always be _that_ between them, a moment of sheer high-grade-induced stupidity.

As his optics locked on the real culprit of this situation, Sunstreaker let out a feral cry and grabbed the energon cube, tossing it at the wall. The cube shattered in pieces, but it wasn't enough for the enraged mech. He lifted the table as if it weighed nothing and turned it over; then kicked the chair repeatedly until it was finally broken in two.

Sunstreaker eventually stopped, breathing heavily and his whole form shaking in his berserk state. Several minutes passed in silence, and then there was no more strength in him. He just dropped on his knees.

"I'm sorry. But I love you… Primus, I love you and it hurts…" he breathed out, for once putting aside his vanity and pride for the one thing that truly mattered now.

"I know."

Sunstreaker snapped his head up, not trusting his audios. Bluestreak was really there, kneeling beside him with a sad smile on his lips. The warrior tried to speak, but Bluestreak never gave him the chance. The gunner reached for him and brought him close to a soothing embrace.

Normally, if it had been anyone else besides his brother who did that, Sunstreaker would have thrown a fit and pummelled them to scrapheap. Now, however, he simply buried himself in the warmth of Bluestreak's arms, accepting it like balm on his pained spark. And when the white fingers started stroking his temple tenderly, he closed his optics to savour the precious caresses.

"Sunny…" Sunstreaker didn't know how Bluestreak got to know of his old nickname nor did he care at the moment, frankly, "I don't want to love while this war lasts. Not after what's happened to my mother and Prowl. You understand that, right?"

Sunstreaker all but whimpered at those words, yet he understood. He placed his head close to the curve of Bluestreak's neck, then wrapped his arms tightly around the gunner's waist and held him close, offering Bluestreak _his_ warmth and comfort in turn. Bluestreak sighed softly and rested his head on top of Sunstreaker's, resembling at that moment a kind spirit sent by Primus to save the warrior from the very darkness of the Pit.

_Do I really deserve you, I wonder…_Sunstreaker thought ruefully.

"And after the war?" he asked in a quiet tone.

Bluestreak's smile became sweeter, an echo of the gunner's former self. "I'll come to you. Will you wait for me?"

For Sunstreaker, there was no other answer to that question.

"Yes."

**The End.**


End file.
